


It Had To Be You

by st_mick



Series: He is the Sun... [7]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Forgiveness, Healing comas rock, Mahwiage, Math geeks are hot, Practically biblical justice, Pregnancy - the Doctor was wrong?, Sorry for the violence of this one, Trigger warning for bad things happening to a baby, Trigger warning for not entirely consensual sex, Well - actually no he wasn't, Well - this one is anyway, Yes - he got hit by a bus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 02:44:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16109153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/st_mick/pseuds/st_mick
Summary: Rory and Peggy make up, but their blossoming relationship is not without its complications.  As the years unfold, Rory chooses a different path until medicine can catch up.  He is presented an opportunity he never thought he would have again, only to have it taken from him in a terrible way.  A red fez helps him to remember that justice is far more important than revenge.





	1. Time to Forgive

“I’ll get it!” Angie called as she strolled towards the front door.  She secretly – well, perhaps not so secretly – took immense pleasure in the amount of time it took to get from any part of the apartment to the front door.  If it was one of her family, all the better.  She’d just offhandedly mention how very _far_ the front door was from her room when apologizing for keeping them waiting.

But when she opened the door, it wasn’t anyone she knew.  “Can I help you?” she asked, eyeing the two men closely.  Both men were about six feet tall.  One was broad and looked very strong, with pale blue eyes, a mustache that was wearing him, and a look of friendly mischief.  The other was handsome enough, though a certain sadness and uncertainty marred his features.  He had kind eyes and looked lean and uncomfortable.

The lean man spoke first, with an English accent.  “We must have the wrong address.  Our apologies.”  He began backing away.

“Now what’s your hurry?” Blue Eyes said, clapping a hand on his friend’s shoulder to keep him there and smiling at Angie.  She felt herself return his smile, almost reflexively.  “Who’s to say it’s the wrong address, after all.  My name’s Tim Dugan.  And you are?”

Peggy would have called that cheek.  Angie just laughed.  “Angie Martinelli.  Maybe if you tell me who you’re looking for…” she turned to the other man, “Mr. …”

“Williams,” he said with a hint of a smile.  “We are looking for Meg... I mean Peggy Carter.”

“Hey, English!” Angie shouted, barely turning her head.  “You got company!”

“Angie, must you shout?” Peggy could be heard chastising as she approached.  Mr. Williams looked as though he wanted to run away.  Angie was intrigued.  “Why don’t you invite our guests in, and I’ll…”  Peggy trailed off when she saw the men at the door.  Her eyes fell on Williams first, then flitted to Dugan.

“Peggy!” Dugan exclaimed and had her in a bear hug before she could react.  “Good to see ya!”

“I had heard that the 107th had been sent home,” she smiled when he set her back on her feet.  She glanced at the other man.  “Rory.”

“Hey, Meg,” he said, and he looked incredibly sad. 

Angie felt immediately protective of him.  “C’mon in and take a load off.  How long have you been back?”

“We just landed yesterday,” Rory answered.

“The war’s been over for ages.  Why are you only now getting back home?”

“Lots of messes needed cleaning up,” Dugan answered, wanting Angie’s attention back on him.

“Meg, can I have a word?” Rory asked.

Angie and Dugan both stared pointedly at Peggy.  “Of course,” she said stiffly.  “You can help me with drinks.  Bourbon, I assume, Tim?”

“You know me well,” Dugan laughed, sitting down to talk to Angie.

In the kitchen, Rory silently helped Peggy prepare refreshments.

“You wanted to talk?” she asked, feeling unsettled.

“I was hoping we could…”

“What, Rory?  What were you hoping for?” Peggy wondered why she sounded so much more angry than she was.  After traveling with the Doctor and Amy and River (she only seemed to be Melody, to her father), Peggy knew things could not have happened any other way.  And yet, she was still very angry.

“Forgiveness.”

“You must think very highly of yourself, if you think you get to take credit for Steve’s choice,” she said.

Rory blinked.  “His choices were his, alone.  I’d never presume such a thing.  But I knew it would happen.  And you seem to blame me because I didn’t do anything with that knowledge.”

“You should have said something to me.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know.  Stop wasting time.  Do something, now.  Something, so I wouldn’t regret _not_ …” she was shouting, now, tears streaming.

“But I did.”

“You…”

“Don’t you remember?  It was before I was shot, I think.  I told you to kiss him.”

Peggy deflated.  Rory _had_ told her to kiss Steve, already.  She had passed it off as a joke, but she remembered his face.  She remembered what he said about needing to seize every moment.  “I…”

“This was a mistake.”

“Rory…”

Rory approached the door but turned back.  “I don’t know what else to do.  I am hamstrung, here.  I’m damned if I try to change something, and damned if I just let it happen.  Even if I _am_ supposed to be here, I cannot interfere with what I know must happen.  And you all say you understand that, until it matters.  And then I’m the bloody villain.”

He had paced as he spoke, growing more agitated.  He stopped, now.  “Well, you know what?  I’m done.  I’m sick of this.  All I’m asking is that you forgive me for something that wasn’t even my fault.  And I’m not leaving until you do it.”

Peggy was distressed by his speech, but she did not like ultimatums.  “What do you mean by that?” she asked acerbically. 

“I know how to wait, Peggy.  And I’m not asking for anything unreasonable.  So.”  He gave a grim smile that she did not like, at all.  “I’ll be across the street from your front door, when you decide to be a human being.”

“Unlike you, you mean,” she seethed.

Rory went very still, his face blank.  In a too-quiet voice, he said, “Just so we’re clear.  I am not asking anything else of you.  You give me this, and you’ll never see me again.  So I’m sure you’ll see that this is in your best interest, too.”

Rory saw himself out.  Dugan and Angie entered the kitchen, having obviously been outside the door, listening.  “That was low, Carter,” Dugan said, looking disappointed.

“Yeah, why so mean, English?”

“You don’t understand, either of you!” Peggy muttered.

“Then explain it,” Angie crossed her arms.  “A man apologizes for something that’s not even his fault, why be so awful to him?”

“I don’t know!  He just makes me so angry I could… spit!”

Dugan found the glass of bourbon that had been poured for him and hid his smile in the glass.

“Ohhh,” Angie smiled.  “You’re mad because you like this guy, and you feel disloyal to your guy Rogers.”  At Dugan’s sputter she added with a wave, “Yeah, she told me.  Girl’s gotta have someone to talk to, sometimes.”

“I assure you, that is not what is going on, here,” Peggy said, leaving the room.

***

“Hey, English, he’s still out there,” Angie called from the front parlor the next morning.  “I think he was serious about waiting for you.”

***

Two days later.  “Peggy, he’s still out there.  C’mon, it’s raining.”

***

“Lieutenant Williams, is there something I can do to assist you?”

“Just waiting for Agent Carter to release me, Jarvis.”

“She has called to ask that you be removed.”

Rory turned his head to look Jarvis in the eye.  “I am not breaking any laws.  I am not causing any trouble.  But if you try to move me, it will not go well for you.”

“I would not wish to see you arrested.”

Rory returned to staring at the front door.

“Jarvis, leave him alone,” Howard said, strolling up.  “Rory, it’s not like you to harass a lady, though.”

“I asked for her forgiveness.  She owes me an answer.  All she has to do is give it, and I’m gone.”

“Maybe that’s the problem,” Howard muttered, crossing the street.

***

Three days, after that.  “I’ve never seen anyone stand so still, so long.”

“It’s a skill of his,” Peggy tapped her teacup.

“Will you explain to me why you don’t want to forgive him?”

“I forgave him a long time ago,” Peggy sighed.

“Then why are you tormenting him?” Angie whirled on Peggy, hands on her hips.

“You heard him.  As soon as I tell him, he’ll leave.  I’m not ready to never see him again.”

“Then why not tell him that?”

“Because he’s married.”

“From what you’ve told me, his wife hasn’t even been born, yet.  Why is that an issue?  As long as you don’t get jealous of him remembering and still loving her, how is it any different from taking up with a widower?”

Peggy looked at Angie.  “You don’t think it’s cheating?”

“How could it be?  If she lived two blocks over, then yeah.  But she’s decades away.  And let’s face it, we probably won’t be around when they’re reunited.  Why not help him pass the time?  Especially if you’re sweet on him.  He looks like he’d go the distance for whatever woman he’s committed to.”

“I think he would.  I know he already has.”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

“We… we won’t grow old together.  _I’ll_ get old.  He’ll stay just this way,” she said, gesturing at him through the window.

“C’mon, English.  I know you’re not that vain.  Might it be embarrassing?  Maybe.  But how many decades from now will that be, and by then will you still care, or will you have matured past that sort of thing?  Hell, pass him off as your son, and then take him home and have your wicked way with a young, fit man.  For the rest of your life.  I gotta say, I’m not seeing a downside.”

Angie smirked, and Peggy chuckled. 

“Look, jokes aside, I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but it never is, for any couple.  But I am willing to bet any amount you’d loan me that this man,” she pointed, “will be devoted to you until the day you die.  _That’s_ what really matters, isn’t it?”

“How on earth did we go from me forgiving him to marrying him to dying in his arms in one conversation?”

“Clearly, that’s what’s bugging you.”

Peggy turned from the window and put her cup on the side table.  “Come on, Angie.”

Angie gave a small whoop and followed Peggy downstairs.  The two women ran across the street, slowing as they approached Rory.  His eyes grew wide and he jumped out, shoving them both onto the sidewalk before the crosstown bus, its brakes locking up as it attempted to stop, smacked into him, sending him flying twenty feet.

“Peggy!” Dugan shouted from across the street.

“Miss Carter, Miss Martinelli!” Jarvis called out from his side.

“Rory!”  Peggy rushed to Rory’s side.  Her blood ran cold as she saw him staring blankly up at the rainy sky.  She tore open his shirt and pressed her ear to his chest.  Nothing.  She rummaged through his bag and pulled out one of the first aid kits.  In it, she saw the two metallic devices.  She placed one over each of his hearts and told everyone to stand back before pressing one of the buttons.

A jolt shot through Rory’s body, making it convulse off of the ground.  After a few seconds, another.  After the third shock, he gave a great, gasping breath and looked around, shuddering.  “I’ve got you,” she said, holding him as he cried out in pain.  She quickly filled a hypospray with painkiller and administered it.  “Dugan, Mr. Jarvis, can you get him to the guest room, please?”

Thankfully, the pouring rain kept the number of witnesses to three or four.  None of them saw much, so there was little that could have been noted as odd, with the four friends shielding Rory.  Peggy and Angie ran ahead of the men, making sure doors were open and the bed turned down.

Jarvis and Dugan undressed Rory and put him in a pair of Howard’s pajama bottoms that Jarvis had scrounged from somewhere.  They did not put a top on him so they could watch the disturbing bruising.  They had both left the room – Dugan to call the colonel and Jarvis to fetch Howard – when Peggy entered.

Rory was curled up on his side, shaking violently and weeping.  “Rory!” She got on the bed beside him and pressed herself against his back.  He felt very cold.  “What is it?”

“The light…” he whispered.  “The howling.”

“I’m so sorry,” she soothed.  “But it will be all right.  Just let it pass.  Time will help.”

She soothed and talked to him and hummed to him, and eventually, he calmed.  He had told her, one time, about the pain of coming back.  She kissed the back of his neck as she whispered comforting words to him.  “Of course I forgive you, Rory.  But please don’t go anywhere.”

He had taken her hand, and he now kissed it.  “Thank you,” he sighed, still trembling.

She sat up as Jarvis and Howard walked in.  Dugan was standing to the side of the door.  She went to stand by him and he put an arm around her as Howard began to assess the damage.  “Have you given him anything?” he asked.

“I gave him a dose as soon as he revived,” Peggy said.  “That’s close to an hour ago, now.”

“I think he needs more.  Give me that hypospray.  No point in him being in this much pain.”

Howard found a broken collarbone, three broken ribs and a cracked femur.  He could not even begin to imagine the internal damage.  “How fast was the damned bus going, anyway?”

“It was the cross-town.  It was in the middle lane, and it switched lanes to go around a truck.  The girls didn’t see the bus changing lanes, and the bus didn’t see them until it was almost on top of them.  He tried to hit his brakes, but he was still going a good fifteen, twenty miles an hour.”

“The girls?” Howard frowned.

“Gramps jumped out and pushed them out of the way.”

Howard blew out a breath.  “All right.  Rory?  Rory?  What can you tell me?”

Rory was enjoying the painkiller, but he opened his eyes to try to speak to Howard.  He saw Amy in the corner of the room with her police costume on.  He sat up and stared at her.  Amy strolled over to Peggy, looking her over.  “I like her.”  She came and sat on the bed and Rory closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, her scent.  “It’s all right.  You’re going to be okay, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, what?  What’s going on, Rory?”

They had watched Rory as he watched something only he could see cross the room.  It was worrying, but painkillers and hallucinations went hand-in-hand often enough that it did not give them too much pause.

“Internal damage, but nothing catastrophic, or I would have coded again, by now.”

“Coded?”

“My hearts would have stopped again.”

“So now’s where you tell us you’re going to have another coma?” Howard asked.

Rory nodded.  He was thankful for the painkillers – he knew the damage was extensive, and he knew he’d be screaming in pain by now, had they not acted so quickly to get ahead of it.  “Don’t freak out if I’m out for a long time,” he said.  “There’s a lot of damage.”

“How long?”

Rory shrugged.  “Could be a couple of weeks.”  He looked over at Peggy.  “I’m sorry.  Howard, I can fight the coma until you can move me.  Maybe the colonel has a safe place at the VA?”

“Absolutely not,” Peggy said.  “You’re not going anywhere.”  She leaned over and helped him lie down.  Then she tucked him in.  “You’re safe here.  We’ll set your bones and look after you.”  She kissed his forehead.  “Sleep, now.  We’ll talk when you wake.”

“Thank you, Meg,” Rory smiled as his eyes fluttered shut.

***


	2. False Start

Rory gasped awake, crying, “No!”

“Rory?” Peggy was beside him in an instant, an arm around him, holding him steady.

Rory could not see properly.  This would wear off, he knew – the Doctor had once described the side effects of long comas.  “Theta?”  He felt someone beside him, but it was a softer presence than the Doctor.  “No, that’s not right,” he muttered, trying to stifle the sob welling up in his chest. 

_Not even ten years in._

_Christ, get ahold of yourself._

“You’re all right,” Peggy soothed.

“Meg?”

“I’m here.”

“What happened?  I…” he lay back down, feeling disorientated.  “I died again, didn’t I?”

“You did.  And you’ve been in a coma for seventeen days.”

“I’m sorry.”

Peggy chuckled.  “Why are you apologizing?  You saved Angie’s life.  And mine.  And you died doing it.  I think you’re entitled to as much healing time as you need.”

“But in this day and age, two single women with a man in their guest room.  It doesn’t look good.  I’m sorry.”

“Are you worried for my reputation, Rory?” she asked, amused.  “Not to worry.  Howard has hired a nurse to help look after you.  And there have been plenty of people around.  Our reputations are safe.”

“Umm.”  He smiled, turning to look at her.

“Umm?”  She flopped onto her side to face him.

“Except that you’re in my bed, Miss Carter.”

Was he flirting?  She chuckled.  “That I am.  You scared the life out of me.  How are you now?”

“I feel like I got hit by a bus,” he groaned.  “But everything seems to be mended.”  He took several long, deep, staggered breaths.  Nothing hurt in an internal injury kind of way.  He was sore as hell, but that was likely the broken bones still knitting.  He yawned.  “Tired.”

“You just slept for seventeen days.”

“Hey, healing comas are not sleep.  They’re actually very hard work,” he smirked.

“I’d ask you if you need any painkiller, but you seem to have already been at it,” she said drily.

“It’s the hormones.  Not sure if they’re endorphins, in this physiology, but they’re kind of a feel-good chemical that gets released, to help with pain and stuff.”  He stifled another yawn.

“I’m sorry you got hit by a bus because of me,” she said quietly.

“I’m just glad you weren’t driving it,” he joked.

“Don’t say that,” she whispered.  “I forgave you a long time ago, Rory.  I should have told you that.  But… I was scared.”

“What were you scared of?” he looked genuinely perplexed, and she wanted to kiss him.

“I was scared you’d do what you said you’d do, and leave once I forgave you.  I… I don’t want you to go away, Rory.”

Rory reached out and took her hand.  “Why not?” he asked, his voice low and full of some emotion she dared not name.

“You mean a lot to me, Rory.  And I think I may mean something to you.  Maybe it’s time we figure out what that means.”

Rory grinned.  “That would be brilliant.  As a matter of fact, once I’m back on my feet, how would you like to go out for dinner and dancing?”

“That would be lovely,” she smiled.

Rory’s eyes were happy but glazed over with exhaustion.  “You should sleep some more,” she said, squeezing his hand.

He drew her hand to him and kissed it.  Then he looked at her so earnestly she could not help but smile.  “Don’t be frightened, okay?”

She frowned.  “What do you…”

 _Thank you_.

Peggy blinked.  “Was that…”

Rory nodded.  _Thank you for forgiving me.  I loved him too, though not like you did._   He sighed.  “Before you say yes to that date, there’s more you should know.”

“Tell me.”

“He’s not dead.”

Peggy’s eyes widened.  “What?”

Rory sighed.  “In 2012, there was an alien invasion.  I should say, another one.  Anyway, there was a battle.  The Battle of New York.  And among the heroes who fought off the invasion was Captain America.”

Peggy put a hand over her mouth.

“It came out then that he’d been found in the ice, in 2011.  I don’t know where – all they said was ‘ice’.  And if I did know…  This goes back to me being a villain.  Because if he were found now, instead of 2011, how does the Battle of New York go?”

Peggy was still holding his hand.  She nodded.  “I understand.  So he’ll be back, but I’ll either be too old to know or already dead and buried.”  She gave his hand a squeeze.  “Why tell me, then?”

“I figure that either way, you need to mourn his loss.  But maybe it’s easier, knowing he’s not dead, that his story isn’t done, yet?”

She nodded.  “Our song is sung, but that he’ll have the chance to sing another is…  I rather like that idea.”  She gave him a watery smile.

“I don’t mean to bring up old pain, Meg.  But I don’t want to have secrets from you.  And that felt like a big one.”

“Thank you,” she smiled through the tears that were falling.  “Now.  You should sleep.  We’ll feed you when you wake.  You’re getting far too thin.”

Rory kissed her hand again and drifted off, still holding it.

***

He woke again at dawn, to see that Peggy was still holding his hand.  She was fast asleep beside him, looking beautiful and peaceful and his hearts sped up at the possibility that this might become a reality, for him.  He smiled as he watched her sleep, enjoying the morning light playing across her lovely face.  He felt his body stir and enjoyed the tension she inspired.

He did not watch her for long before she stirred, and he closed his eyes.  She gave the tiniest start when she realized she had slept the whole night with him, but her movements were unhurried as she let go of his hand.  He felt her sweep his hair off of his brow before kissing it and leaving his bed, and then his room.

Rory fell back to sleep for a while, but when he woke, the sun was not that much further up.  He sat up in bed, testing his body, seeing what still hurt, what might yet be damaged.  Everything felt both normal and extremely sore, so he took that as a positive sign.  In attempting to stand up, he found out that the leg he had broken was quite weak.  In fact, it did not seem inclined to support him.  He landed on the thickly padded rug near the foot of the bed, cursing.

“You all right in there?” Dugan came striding in.  “What, was the bed too soft?”

“Matter of fact,” Rory grumbled.  Beds were always too soft, at first.  “Take your time, mate.  When you’re done laughing, give us a hand, yeah?”

Dugan chuckled.  “Glad to see you – well, _sort of_ up and around.” 

“I think I can walk, but my leg is weak.  Can you just keep me steady?”

“Sure.”  Dugan helped Rory to the bathroom, where he drew a bath.  While the tub was filling, Rory leaned against the sink and shaved.  “Say, Gramps.  What do you think of Angie?”

Rory grinned.  Dugan never asked, so either he liked this girl, or she’d challenged him, in some way.  “Well, I did get hit by a bus, so she wouldn’t.”

“Yeah.  She’s still talking about that,” he said, brooding.

“Look.  She’s a nice girl.  If you like her, ask her out.”

“Yeah?”

“That’s usually how it works.”

“And how would you know?”

“Can’t be sure, but I think I asked Meg out, last night.  How about we make it a double?”

Just then, Jarvis appeared around the corner.  “I heard the bath, and thought you might like some Epsom salts.”

“Thank you, Jarvis.  Hey, how about you and your wife come, too?”

“That sounds splendid.  When you are well, name the date.”

“Safety in numbers?” Dugan laughed.

“Hey, you’re the only one who hasn’t asked,” Rory grinned as he began brushing his teeth.

Jarvis finished running the bath, pouring an entire bag of salts into it, along with a few drops of something.

“Hey, that’s nice.  What is that?” Dugan asked, smelling the bottle before Jarvis replaced the top.

“Is that lavender?” Rory asked.

“It is.  It is reputedly quite good for restoring sore and tired muscles.  Once you’ve had your bath, your breakfast will be ready.”

“We’ll leave you to it, but don’t try to get out of the bath without some help.  There aren’t any big, fluffy rugs in here, if you fall again.”

“Yes, Mother,” Rory grumbled as he undressed and, with a hand from Jarvis, stepped into the tub. 

The water was barely the cool side of scalding, and it took several minutes for Rory to settle into it.  But once he was used to it, he leaned back and drifted for a long while.  He thought of Amy, and the Doctor, and Jack, and he missed them.  He thought of his dad, and his daughter.  And he thought how lucky he was, to still be alive, to have the opportunity to live to see them. 

He desperately fought the memories of the howling, of the light.  They were still sharp edges that still hurt terribly, and he forced his mind to other places.  He thought of Meg, and of waking up beside her, and he tried desperately to not get ahead of himself.  She barely didn’t hate him anymore.  She had only just forgiven him.  She had only just agreed to go out on a date with him.

She had only just awakened, in his bed. 

He felt his hearts flutter.  And he grinned.

“What are you grinning at?” Dugan laughed.  He stuck his hand in the water.  “C’mon, your water’s cold.  Pull the plug and rinse off, and I’ll help you get dressed.”

Rory chuckled and stood, allowing a cool spray from the shower rinse the salt off of his body.  Once he’d dried off, Dugan helped him walk back to the bedroom, where he slowly dressed.

“Are you hungry?” Dugan asked.

Rory nodded.  “Actually, I am.  A little lightheaded, though.”

“I have brought some orange juice.  That might help.”  Jarvis entered with a small juice glass.

Rory drank the juice and could swear he tasted sunshine.  “Thank you, Jarvis,” he smiled.

They made their way to the dining room, where Peggy and Angie were setting the table.

“Lieutenant!” Angie cried, racing towards him and enveloping him in a hug. 

Dugan kept Rory from falling off balance, and he chuckled, giving the young woman a hug.

“Thank you!” she said, breathless.

Rory looked at Peggy, who gave him a wink.

“You’re welcome, Miss…”

“Martinelli.  Angie, remember?  Oh, God.  You hit your head, didn’t you?  Have you got brain damage, now?”

“Angie!” Peggy exclaimed.  Rory took the opportunity to elbow Dugan in the ribs.

“Yeah, Gramps.  How can you not remember Miss Martinelli’s name?  Do we need to get Stark to look at your head?”

Jarvis refrained from rolling his eyes and went to the kitchen to begin fetching in the dishes of food, piled high with eggs, bacon, sausage, potatoes and toast. 

As breakfast progressed, Dugan said, “So, Angie.  Gramps and I were talking, and we thought it’d be great if you and Peg here could come out with us, once he’s back on his feet.  What do you say?  Dinner and dancing?”

This time, Rory winked at Peggy.  She smiled into her juice.

“That sounds swell!” Angie enthused.  Then her face fell.  “Well, except that I think the Lieutenant asked Peggy, so you’d kind of be stuck with me.”

“Stuck?  Hell, you’re the one I was asking!” Dugan exclaimed.  “Stuck.  I never heard such nonsense.  Who ever let you think you’re not the prettiest girl around?”

Angie actually blushed, at that.  She smiled shyly at Dugan, who grinned back at her.

“What is it with dames, that everything has to be such a drama?” Howard complained as he entered the dining room.  “Glad to see you’re up, Gramps.”

“What, are women having the cheek to actually complain about being objectified by you, Howard?” Rory asked, shaking his head.

Peggy grinned at him.  Dugan became interested in his eggs.  Howard looked utterly baffled.

“Ob..jectified?”

“You don’t treat them like people.  Like human beings.  You treat them like sides of beef, the same way you’d treat your dinner tonight.  Something to be consumed and disposed of.  It’s…  Well, let’s just say there are a lot of things I prefer about my time, though we still haven’t got it right.”

“Consumed?”  Howard looked more confused.  And yet, not.  He knew what Rory was saying, and that it was true.  That is was wrong, somehow, had never occurred to him.

“I tell you what,” Rory said, throwing down his napkin.  “How about, for the rest of the day, I treat you how you treat women.  See how you like it.”  Howard looked startled.  “With the stipulation that I am in no way attracted to your homophobic arse,” he amended.

Peggy was wheezing into her napkin, now.

“An experiment?” Howard looked, of all things, intrigued.

“Bring us some more juice, will you doll?” Rory grinned.

Howard blinked, but he passed the juice.

Three innuendo, a smacked bottom and an openly appraising look later, Howard was no longer intrigued.  “Okay, this experiment is over.”

“Okay, doll.”

“Knock it off.”

“Whatever you say, sweet cheeks.”

Dugan choked on his juice.

“I mean it, Gramps!”

“Oh, I know you do,” Rory smiled wolfishly at Howard.

“Fine.  Jarvis will look you over.  I’m leaving.”

Rory managed to pinch Howard as he walked past him.  Howard ran from the room.  Everyone had the good grace to wait until they heard the front door slam before bursting into laughter.

“Oh, I don’t think I want to know how you’re so good at that,” Peggy laughed.

“Jack the lad,” Rory grinned.  “That was pretty much how the first two decades of our friendship looked,” he laughed, but the smile faded from his face.  “Obnoxious git.”  He rubbed his chest absently, trying to ease the ache.

Jarvis brought out a waffle with chocolate chips and strawberries, topped with whipped cream.  “Some performances deserve a reward,” he said, the smile twitching at the corner of his mouth betraying his usually neutral demeanor.

***

The triple date was a resounding success.  The logistics of dropping the ladies off at home and hoping for a goodnight snog was a bit worrying, but it seemed to be solved when Angie invited them in for a nightcap and asked Peggy and Rory to mix the drinks in the kitchen.

“She is not subtle,” Peggy murmured as she put ice in the glasses.

“No, but she is highly effective,” Rory walked up behind her, standing so close they were almost touching.  He could feel the heat from her body.  He put his hands on her waist and buried his nose in her lovely hair.  “You smell divine,” he whispered, breathing deep.

He drew back, frowning.  “Meg, why do you smell like the vortex?”

“The what?” she turned around and looked at him, wide-eyed.  The Doctor had told her she could not tell Rory she had seen them. 

“The vortex.  It’s faint, but I smell it.  Why…”

“Could it be that thing that Jack wears on his wrist?” she asked, her eyes still wide and innocent.  She _hated_ this. 

“His vortex manipulator is broken,” he said.

“Future Jack,” she spoke as the inspiration struck her.  “He took me for what he called a ‘quick jump’, to convince me.”  Well, he had offered to, but she had refused.  But maybe this would satisfy Rory’s curiosity…

“You never told me that.  Ugh.  Vortex manipulators are awful.”

“No, I didn’t like it at all.”  She turned back around and began working on the drinks again, her heart beginning to flutter.  She felt Rory kiss her hair, then her ear.  A gentle hand moved her hair aside and she felt his lips at her neck.  She leaned her head away to give him more room to move.

“Meg,” he whispered, turning her in his arms.  He looked at her for a moment.  “You are so beautiful,” he caressed her face, then plunged his hand into her hair as he leaned down to taste her sweet lips. 

The kiss was patient, unhurried as he moved his mouth over hers.  Her mouth was already slightly open, but he did not deepen the kiss until she wrapped her arms around him.  One of her hands was in his hair, the other in his jacket, pulling him closer.  That was his invitation, her request for more.

He began a slow, languorous exploration of her mouth, their tongues sliding together as they both grew hungry for more.  But still he kept his pace slow, even as she pressed her body against his.  Not to tease, but he had no idea how experienced she might be, and he did not want to let their first kiss get out of hand.

But she was _so_ eager.  He began to hope against hope that she was not an innocent, after all.  As she began pressing her hips against his, he moaned into her mouth.

God, it had been so long…

“Meg,” he whispered.

“Steve…”

Rory went very, very still.  He loosened his hold on her as she clapped a hand over her mouth.  “Oh, God.”

“Shh,” he soothed, a sad smile on his lips.  “It’s all right.”  He kissed her forehead.  “I…  I’ll just go now.”

“Rory, please wait…”

“Oh, God.  That’s just how he would have done it, right?  Slow and sweet and considerate.”  He hung his head and went on, his voice quiet.  “I’d do anything for you, Meg.  But I can’t be some consolation prize.  I spent too many of my younger years wondering if Amy was with me because she couldn’t be with the Doctor.  And the truth is, she probably was, at least a little bit.  And even though I knew she loved me, it was hard, you know?  I…  I can’t do that again.”  He sighed.  “I should go.”

“Rory, don’t go,” she looked mortified.  “I am so sorry.  I don’t know where that came from.”

“That came from you still being in love with another man,” Rory said quietly.  He ran a hand through his hair, then he looked at her, his eyes steady.  “I’m going to kiss you again, before I go.  But not in any way you could ever imagine he would.” 

He reached out and kissed her again, this time without patience, without restraint.  He kissed her hard and deep and dirty, and when she moaned into his mouth, he broke away, breathless. 

“Goodnight, Meg,” he said, his voice weary, but also resolute.

Dugan heard Rory leave and followed, concerned.  Peggy and Angie drank all of the bourbon as Peggy cried over her mis-step.  Rory felt so heartbroken and humiliated that it took Dugan one hour and two ginger beers to get him to admit what had happened.  Dugan and Rory got properly drunk and passed out in the early hours.

In the morning, Rory was gone.

***


	3. Second Chances

Rory was in the colonel’s office when the latter arrived the next morning.  “Williams, to what do I owe…” he trailed off, not liking the look on Rory’s face.

“I’d like to request leave, Sir.”

“How long?”

Rory shrugged.  “Two, maybe three months?  Through the end of the year, maybe.”

“I see.”  The date must not have gone well.  Damn.  Youth is wasted on the young.  They go and muck it all up, every way they can, before they even try to get it right.  Except Williams wasn’t young.  But Carter was…  “All right.  I’ll see you back here, January 5th.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Rory had already called Jarvis that morning.  The evening before, the butler had been bemoaning the fact that Howard wanted his New York car in Los Angeles, and his Los Angeles car in New York.  He was likely just being a prat and jerking Jarvis’ chain, but Rory had offered to make the drive and do the exchange, on the condition that he could do it in his own time.

Jarvis called Howard to ensure this was what he really wanted, telling him about Rory’s offer.  Howard met Rory when he arrived that morning to start the journey. 

“So.  Guess you don’t get any further, treating a dame with respect, than you do objectifying her, huh?” he taunted, still sore about Rory’s experiment.  “Jarvis tells me you had a date last night.  So who was it?  One of the SSR girls?  I could have told you that it’s not respect they want.”

“Sir,” Jarvis tried to interject.

“As a matter of fact, Dugan and I took Angie and Meg out, last night.  The Jarvises joined us, as well.  It was a lovely evening.”

His tone was so bland, he could have been talking about the weather.  Howard closed his mouth with a click.  Rory looked like hell and was taking off for the west coast the morning after a date with Peggy. 

This was bad.

“Well, glad to hear a good time was had by all,” Howard said with false equanimity.  “Jarvis, do you have a wallet for him, for his expenses on the way out and back?”

“It is here, Sir.” Jarvis handed the wallet to Rory, along with a set of maps with the route drawn out.

“When will you be back?” Howard tried to sound offhand.

“When do you need the car?”

“Oh, any time.”

“Maybe by the new year, then,” Rory stowed the wallet in his messenger bag, and tossed the bag into the car.  “Thanks.”

“No, thank you for helping out,” Howard said.  He waved Rory off, though he was certain his friend didn’t look back.

“Find out what happened,” he growled to Jarvis.

***

Ana knocked on the door of the apartment.  Angie answered.  “The men are panicking, right?”

“A lot of people seem to be very… invested in these two.  They were so perfect together last night.  What happened?”

“How do we calm everyone down without further humiliating Peggy and Rory?  Particularly him…”

“Humiliate?  I do not understand.”  Ana looked at Angie.  “Mr. Stark told Edwin to find out what happened.  Edwin asked me to find out.  I can find out, but be certain that Edwin and Mr. Stark do not.  Come, now.   Two women can do better than all these men, to work this out.”

“We all had a good time last night, right?”  At Ana’s nod, Angie continued.  “Well, we get back here, and they’re in the kitchen mixing a nightcap for us all, and next I know, Rory’s out the door and Tim’s following after.  Come to find out…” Angie bit her lip.  “Their first kiss, and he whispers, ‘Meg’.  What do you think she whispers back?  ‘ _Steve_ ’.”

Ana gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.  “Oh, no!  The poor man!”  Her eyes widened.  “But wait.  That is the answer!”

“What?”

“She told him she is not ready.  He is upset, naturally, but he will honor her wishes.  He is giving her time.  There!  Not far from the truth, but not as embarrassing.  Something everyone will readily understand.  A delay, not an ending.”

“You are far too kind, Ana,” Peggy said as she entered the room, her voice weary. 

“But it is the truth!  You would not have called out his name, if you were over him.  This at least grants our handsome young friend his dignity.”

Peggy nodded.  “Fine.  Angie, can you please have Tim tell Rory?”

“But no, that is not possible,” Ana said, coloring.  “He is gone.”

“What?” Peggy jumped to her feet.

“He is driving Mr. Stark’s car for him, out to Los Angeles.  And driving another car back to New York.  He left hours ago.  He is gone until the new year, I think.”

Peggy sat down again, feeling very sad.  “I thought I was over Steve,” she whispered.  “It’s been two years.”

“I don’t know that you could ever be over him, Honey,” Angie sat next to her and put an arm around her.  “I don’t know that you should.  And I don’t think that’s what Rory would want or expect.  It’s like he said about his Roman wife.  She has a special place, and he won’t forget her.  But he’s able to move on _because_ he’s made that place for her.  Have you done that, for Steve?”

“No,” Peggy admitted.  “I suppose you’re right.  I need to give him a place of his own, and leave him there, if I want to have a life with someone else.”

“So perhaps these few months will be good, yes?” Ana said, smiling.  “It will give you time to honor your Steve and give him a special place.  Then when your Rory returns, you can let him court you.  Take it slowly and allow him into all of those spaces where you will have removed Steve from.”

***

Rory drove across the country fairly quickly, the trip uneventful.  He felt restless and unhappy.  He was surprised to find a letter from Peggy waiting for him when he arrived at Howard’s Los Angeles home.  He was more surprised by the letter’s contents, which included the less humiliating version of the truth that explained his sudden flight across the country.

Peggy revealed that she cared deeply for Rory, but she was not yet ready for a relationship with him.  She insisted that she did eventually hope for something between them, but she first needed to lay Steve to rest.  She asked how he had done this, with Aelia. 

Thus began a lengthy and faithful correspondence between the two that they maintained throughout the following year.  When Rory returned to New York, he enrolled in Columbia University to earn a medical degree.  Placement examinations were lengthy, but they indicated that only two and a half years of classes would be required.

As Rory began his classes, his time was devoted to his studies.  When he was not working or at school, he was on the roof of his apartment building doing forms, spending time with Dugan, Jarvis, the colonel, or Howard, and writing letters to Peggy.

He did not see her for many months.  He knew from the colonel and Howard that they were in the process of forming SHIELD, and he was pleased to occasionally be of service, in the periphery, as the SSR was folded into its operations.

In September of 1948, Timothy Dugan and Angie Martinelli married.  Rory was his best man, Peggy was her maid of honor.  He planned to continue to work for SHIELD, and she planned to continue to go to auditions, her dream of acting still very much alive.

At the wedding, Peggy and Rory were very shy of one another.  They had not seen each other since that awful night, and yet they had grown closer, through their correspondence.  He was very hesitant in asking her out to dinner, not knowing whether enough time had passed.

For Peggy, more than enough time had passed, but she understood his hesitation, after she had hurt him, so.  She gave him an enthusiastic answer, and their second attempt at a first date went quite well, though a peck on the cheek was all she got when he walked her to her door.

And so the remainder of 1948 passed, with enjoyable dates interspersed with school and work at the VA for Rory, and work at SHIELD for Peggy.  Christmas was spent with the Jarvises and Dugans, though not even the mistletoe seemed to tempt Rory.  Actually, he seemed to look at it rather forlornly, remembering another Christmas, more than a decade before…

***

Peggy allowed Rory’s nostalgia at Christmas, but she was determined to show him she was more than ready to move on with him.  Her dress for the New Year’s dance they planned to attend was her secret weapon.  It was a strapless number reminiscent of Rita Hayworth’s black dress from _Gilda_ , except Peggy’s dress was crimson.

Rory’s reaction when she opened the door to him was decidedly gratifying.  He stared for a moment before remembering himself and closing his mouth.  He felt like a king, with her on his arm, though there were many who clearly thought Agent Carter could do better.  But he weathered their attacks with his usual combination of humor and snark.  The ignorant came away unharmed, but no one with malice in his heart came away unscathed, for Rory had a sharp wit, and he had learned the art of the well-aimed barb from Amy and Mels.

When he walked Peggy to her door that evening, he seemed to hesitate for a moment before kissing her cheek.  “Thank you for a lovely evening, Meg,” he whispered as he indulged in a brief embrace.  “Happy New Year.”

It was clear as he released her from his embrace that he planned to be true to his word to give her time.  But, Peggy realized, she did not need any more time.  “Rory?” she caught his hand as he turned to go.

He turned back, his face curious.  She stepped into his arms and pressed her body to his and kissed him.  It was a very matter-of-fact kiss, meant to apprise him of matters as they now stood.

Rory was uncertain as to how to proceed.  He knew how he wanted to respond, but he had made one terrible error, already.  He had no plans to make another.  They had all the time in the world. 

He placed a hand at the small of her back and the other caressed her cheek.  “You are so magnificent,” he whispered, his lips close to hers.  He pressed her body to his and relished the feeling of how they fit together.  He leaned down and gave her a soft, open kiss before releasing her, once more.

She opened the door to her apartment and stepped inside, licking her lips as she smiled and closed the door.  Rory swallowed hard.  Then he licked his own lips, savoring the taste of her lips still lingering there.  He pulled out a handkerchief and carefully wiped her lipstick from his mouth before re-entering the elevator.  He savored the ache that was awakening in his body, in his hearts.

He had been sublimating his sex drive for years, now.  He had almost allowed it to reactivate the year before, but the distress of the… misfire had been enough to reverse it.  Other than a few encounters with Sergeant Barnes during the war, he had not had all that much interest.  But now…  He felt as though his body was coming out of some sort of hibernation.  It was exhilarating.

***


	4. On Bigamy

As the first weeks of the new year progressed, their goodnight kisses became increasingly bold.  One night, as he stepped away from her, breathless and needy and seeing her desire plainly in her face, he found his voice.  “Meg…”

“No, I’m not,” she said, answering his question.  “Fred,” she said, rolling her eyes.  “But he never made me feel this way,” she said, giving him a smile what was half innocent, half vixen.

Rory was relieved.  Deflowering a virgin was not something he was keen to do.  Peggy laughed.  “Things really are different, in your time.”

Rory grinned.

***

On February 12th, Peggy and Rory went to a Valentine’s dance with the Jarvises and the Dugans.  When Rory walked Peggy home, one of the hallway lights was out, leaving them in shadows as they said their goodnights.

The third time Rory attempted to leave, Peggy wove her fingers into his hair and pulled him back to her, again.  She gave his hair a tug as their tongues tangled, and he moaned softly in her mouth. 

 _Te amo_.

Peggy leaned away from Rory, looking intently into his face.  It was practically shining with love.  “Oh, you dear man.  I love you, too,” she whispered.

It took another hour and her neighbors arriving on the elevator for them to finish saying goodnight.

***

Colonel and Mrs. Phillips celebrated their golden wedding anniversary in March.  Rory had seemed quiet and out of sorts, and Peggy dragged him out onto the dance floor to try to improve his mood.  When the dance ended, he invited her out onto the terrace for some air.

“Is everything all right?” she asked, shivering.

“Fine,” Rory placed his coat around her shoulders.  “It’s just,” he rubbed the back of his neck.  “I need to ask you a philosophical question.”

“I don’t think a party is the proper place for philosophy,” Peggy smiled.  She enjoyed Rory’s little time dilemmas.  They were usually great fun to debate.

“But it could be construed as a question of character,” he said, frowning.

“Oh, that sounds quite serious,” she smiled.  He was up to something, but she couldn’t figure out what.

“It is,” he whispered, moving behind her.  They looked at the lights of the city together as she leaned against him.

“Well, you’d better ask your question, then,” she whispered back, wanting to kiss him.

He stepped away from her, leaving her feeling cold.  “I was wondering... what is your stance on bigamy?”

Peggy frowned.  “What?” She turned around and saw him kneeling before her, a small ring box in his hands.  In it was a beautiful, modestly-sized baguette-cut sapphire, set in platinum.  Her hand was over her mouth, her eyes wide.

“Meg, will you marry me?” Rory asked, his face earnest and radiant with love.

She fell to her knees before him and, taking his face in her hands, kissed him tenderly.  “Yes,” she whispered, smiling.  She took her glove off and Rory slid the beautiful ring onto her finger.

Rory leapt to his feet and pulled Peggy into his arms, swinging her around as they laughed and a handful of people at the door applauded.  When he set her on her feet, he leaned down to brush off her knees, but she shooed him away.  She went to the powder room with Angie and Ana as Dugan, Howard, Jarvis and the colonel all shook Rory’s hand and congratulated him.

When she took a bit too long to return, Rory went in search of his new fiancé.  As he walked past one of the washrooms, the door opened and he found himself being pulled inside, pushed against the door once it was closed, and thoroughly snogged.

“Meg,” he gasped for air.  “What are you…”

But apparently, Peggy was determined to soil her knees because she dropped before him, making short work of his belt and fly, and before he could even comprehend what she was doing, much less protest, she had his cock in her mouth.

It was all he could do, not to cry out.

Watching this beautiful woman work him over with her hands and mouth was more than he could withstand.  His only excuse, when he had the wherewithal to make one, was that it had been a _very_ long time.  He came hard, gasping as quietly as he could as she sucked him long past his release, swallowing every drop and releasing him with a wicked grin.

She righted his clothing and stood, leaning against him and kissing him.  He tasted himself on her tongue, and soon he had her back against the door and was on his knees.  She looked mildly curious as he ducked under her skirt – thank god for those flared, a-line dresses – and slid his hands up her stockings. 

When he reached the top of her stockings, he felt the soft, exposed skin of her upper thighs and felt her shiver.  He reached down and pulled one foot out of her shoe and, placing her foot on his shoulder, he proceeded to ruining her very pretty silk knickers by tearing them at the seam in the crotch.  She gave a gasp but did not protest further as he buried his nose in her curls, inhaling deeply and groaning softly with pleasure.

He teased her folds with a finger as he gently kissed and licked her clit, feeling her shudder against him and suppress a moan.  He gently moved his finger inside her as he began to suck.  He felt her trying to claw at him through her dress, finally finding the back of his head as he alternated between licks and sucks, plunging a second finger deep inside.

He felt her tightening around his fingers and sweet Jesus, he was getting hard again.  He moaned against her most sensitive feature, his tongue becoming more insistent as his fingers moved faster.  As he felt her begin to shudder around him, he gave his hand a twist and curled his fingers in, hitting _that_ spot as he sucked her clit, just a bit harder. 

Peggy had her handbag in her mouth, biting it to keep from screaming as she orgasmed intensely.  Her legs were quivering as he placed her foot back in her shoe and stood, sucking his fingers and watching her catch her breath, his eyes glittering with desire.  Looking down, she saw he was hard again, but she was in no fit state to deal with that. 

He leaned in and kissed her, and now it was her turn to taste herself on his tongue.  It was very erotic and overwhelming, and suddenly she felt a bit disconcerted.

Rory leaned back and looked at her, concerned.  “Hey.  You all right?”

She nodded.  “I…  That was…”

“Yes it was,” he smiled, his voice low and rakish.  She rather liked it.  “Shall we go, and you can tell me what’s bothering you over a cup of tea?”

“We should stay for a while longer,” she smiled, attempting to rally her spirits as he smiled back at her.

“Okay, but I’m going to need a few minutes.”

She giggled and quickly righted her appearance before slipping from the room.  Rory checked his own reflection, wiping away lipstick and ensuring he looked tidy as his body calmed.  He rejoined the party, and his concern began to grow as Peggy seemed intent on sticking close to Angie and Ana.  As a half hour stretched to an hour, his alarm intensified. 

After an additional quarter hour, he retrieved their coats and congratulated the colonel and his wife before extricating Peggy from her friends.  When they arrived at Peggy’s apartment, Rory took her keys from her and unlocked the door, entering the apartment and making his way to her kitchen.

He was chagrined to see that she looked a bit frightened of him.  He put a kettle on to boil and took off his overcoat, suit coat, and tie.  She excused herself to change, feeling that untorn and intact knickers might make her feel a bit less unsure of herself.

By the time she returned, the tea was brewed.  Rory poured them each a cup and sat opposite her.  “I’ve frightened you, haven’t I?” he asked, looking distressed.

“Not frightened, no,” Peggy said hesitantly.

“What then?”

She stared into her cup.  “So many things,” she murmured.  “What you did,” she blushed.  “I didn’t… I didn’t know…”

Rory stared at her.  “You mean that git Fred taught you to give him a blow job, but he never reciprocated?  He never showed you the same pleasure?”  He frowned, looking angry and indignant.  “He took your virginity without ever having any regard for your enjoyment?”  He shook his head, still frowning.

“He said that the first time was meant to hurt, but he did… see to me, though not as skillfully as you.”

Rory frowned.  “So… you’re upset that he was a selfish prat and I’m… not?”

Peggy frowned.  “One of the reasons I never regretted my choice to break the engagement was that Fred was not a loving partner.  This is not about him.  I…”  She frowned and rubbed her forehead.  “I’m not doing a very good job of this, am I?”

“Was it overwhelming for you?”

She nodded, turning her teacup in its saucer.

“Did I frighten you?”

“No!” she looked up at him, startled.  “No.  It’s… a heady feeling, to know one has stirred such desire in another.  Your face, when you are aroused… it’s… you’re beautiful,” she said, staring at him.

Rory blushed and shook his head.  “Then what is it?  You avoided me, after.”

“I was embarrassed.”

“Why?”

“Because of what I had done, and what you had done, and in the colonel’s washroom, of all places, and…”

“And?”

“You’re just so much more experienced than I am,” she blurted.

Rory blinked.  He looked at his tea, then took a sip.  “Meg, I am very old.  My mind is ancient.  This body is… what?  About forty, maybe forty-five.  And I’ve been married…  Oh.”  He sat back.  “Is that what bothers you?”

Peggy did not look at him.  “You’ve talked about your family.  That you’re omnisexual.  I…  I don’t think I could share you, Rory.”

Rory laughed.  He couldn’t help it.  “I told you a long time ago that no one who loves you would ask you to.  I can be monogamous, Meg.  I was, for a very long time.  For you, I will be.”

“But what if you meet someone?”

“I will be faithful to you, Meg.  You want monogamy, and I will pledge that to you.”

“Until they return,” she said, knowing she was being unfair.

“Until death parts us,” he said, his voice solemn.

Peggy reached out and took his hand and sighed.

“And that bothers you, as well,” he said.

“I am going to grow old.”

Rory nodded.  “It is a lot to ask,” he murmured, beginning to feel discouraged.

“It is,” she said thoughtfully.  “It is a lot to ask, that you, who will always be young, be saddled with a woman who will wither and die.”

Rory looked startled.  “I don’t care about that.  I meant that it’s a lot to ask that you endure me being such an… aberration,” he whispered the last.  “I count it a great loss that I won’t get to grow old with you.”

“You do?”

Rory nodded. 

Peggy took his hand and led him to the sitting room, where she sat him in a wing chair before sitting in his lap.  She leaned against him and gave him a kiss.  “You are unique and wonderful.  Please don’t ever let me hear you call yourself an aberration, again.”

Rory kissed her again.  Then he sighed.  “You need to know…”  He cleared his throat.  “I should have told you this before I asked you to marry me, actually.”

“What?”

“The… procedure on the Waverider.  I can’t…  We won’t be able to have children.”  He looked pained to say it.

Peggy sagged in relief.  “Rory, I know I shouldn’t say this, that it’s frowned upon, but I don’t want children.”

Rory looked at her.   “You don’t?”

She shook her head.  “I know it’s not normal, but it’s just not something I’ve ever wanted.”  She looked closely at him.  “And I know that probably distresses you, because you have always wanted children.  But…”

“So you’re not upset?” he said, his voice filled with wonder.  “But Peggy, you may change your mind.  What if…”

She placed her fingertips on his lips.  “I don’t think I will, Rory.”

They talked deep into the night, forming a new, deeper understanding of one another, of their relationship, of how they wished to navigate their future together.

***


	5. Ways to Pass the Time

They married in May.  He insisted that she keep her name, which secretly delighted her.  Tim Dugan was his best man, and Angie Dugan was her matron of honor.  The colonel may or may not have grown misty when the groom kissed his bride.

They honeymooned at the finest hotel in Niagara Falls.  Rory laughed at the cliché when Peggy suggested it, but he quickly realized that it mattered little where they would be, as long as they were together.  Their two-week trip quickly extended to three, and then four.  They were well into their fifth week when the colonel and Howard showed up to reclaim their Director.

Peggy had answered the door while Rory was in the shower.  “Is that room service?” he asked, entering the room wearing one towel and drying his hair with another. 

“Rory,” Peggy began but he scooped her up and gave her a decidedly not-appropriate-for-one’s-coworkers-to-witness snog before realizing they weren’t alone.  He set her down behind him and the happy expression on his face was clouded by one of fierce of protection before he recognized them.

“Ah,” he said.  “Not room service.”  He went to the adjacent room to dress.

It was not lost on either man that Peggy had not had a break since before the war.  The colonel glanced at Howard before saying gruffly, “Three more days.  We’ll pick you up Saturday morning,” before leaving, a surprised Howard trailing behind.

***

Rory graduated from medical school in 1950.  He stayed at the VA and only answered to Lieutenant.  Much to the consternation of his coworkers, he did not wish to be called ‘Doctor’.  He was a sometime SHIELD agent, though he far preferred field operations such as he had done with the commandos to any sort of spy work, which he flat out refused to do.  Even so, he did often escort his lovely bride to events, where he ran interference while she did her work.  He was rather amused to realize that it was not terribly different than many of his outings with the Doctor, just fewer explosions.

***

In 1951 the Howling Commandos, now a special unit within SHIELD, were deployed to Korea.  A North Korean scientist and his family were trying to flee the country, along with some fairly advanced technology.  Rory accompanied Dugan and the rest. 

They inserted with the First Battalion, Middlesex Regiment of the 27th British Commonwealth Infantry Brigade.  The rendezvous point for the scientist and his family had become a hot zone, and all hell had broken loose.  As the commandos fought side by side with their British allies, they found themselves fighting the enemy, hand-to-hand.

Rory caught sight of a North Korean soldier breaching a weak flank, and he ran to give support.  He was out of ammunition, and he found his sword to be lighter and more practical than his rifle and bayonet.  He dropped a shoulder as he ran and bowled a raw recruit out of the path of the North Korean’s bayonet.  He parried the soldier’s thrust, breaking the bayonet off of the rifle.  As he ran the man through, he had a fleeting thought, wondering what the Doctor would think of him, now.

He gave a shudder as he looked around.  The fight was in hand, now, with the enemy retreating.  He knelt down to wipe the blood off of his sword.  When he stood, he looked down and saw the recruit staring at him, wide-eyed.  He couldn’t have been more than sixteen years of age.

“You…  You’re one of the Howling Commandos.  You fought with Captain America, didn’t you?”

Rory gave a curt nod and reached down, offering a hand to the young man.  As he hauled him to his feet, he felt as though his hand had been scorched.

“Yowza!” the kid rubbed his hand.  “What is that, static electricity?”

Rory stared at his hand, frowning.

“You all right, Gramps?” Dugan strolled up.

“Williams!”

Rory turned towards the voice just as the young man snapped to attention.  “Yes, Sir!” the young man said.

“Get your arse back over here and help with the wounded!”

“Yes, Sir!”  The young man turned to Rory.  “Thank you, Sir,” and ran away.

Rory stared.  Then he looked at his hand again.  Then he began laughing.  He did not stop for a long while, and Dugan began to wonder what the joke might be.

“What the hell?” Dugan asked.

“Can you do me a favor?  Go ask that kid what his full name is,” Rory pointed at the kid.

Dugan frowned at Rory but jogged off as Rory found a salve for his hand in his first aid kit.  Morita wrapped his hand up for him, asking what happened. 

“Just wait,” Rory grinned.

Dugan strolled back a few minutes later.  “All right, Gramps.  What gives?”

“You get a name?”

“I did, but I have a feeling you already know it.”

“Brian Rory Williams?” Rory grinned.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Morita said, his eyes wide.  “That makes him, what?”

“Grandpa Rory!” Rory laughed, jumping up and down.  “He used to tell the tallest tales!  One of them was being saved from a North Korean bayonet by one of the Howling Commandos that fought with Captain America!”  He sobered.  “He described the soldier who saved him as something wild.”  He frowned. 

When did that become him?

Dugan clapped him on the shoulder, hoping to distract him from where his thoughts were clearly taking him.  “Isn’t that supposed to be dangerous?  What about a ‘tear in the fabric of reality’?”

“Well, I imagine I would have ceased to exist if I hadn’t saved him.  But now that he’s safe,” Rory trailed off and held up his burned hand.

“Safe?  Here?  You’d better hope so,” Dugan frowned.

“So your dad hasn’t been born yet?”

Rory shook his head.  “Not until 1960.  That kid’s only sixteen.  Little idiot.”

“Hey, have a little respect for you gramps, Gramps,” Morita grinned.

“I swear, you have the weirdest life,” Dugan shook his head, but then he grinned.  “So he’s not part of your timeline, just yet.  You going to go talk to him?”

Rory looked at his palm.  It wasn’t a bad burn, but it was severe enough that he knew he shouldn’t take any chances.  Then he grinned.  “You want to invite them to chow with us?  We should probably make sure we don’t touch again, though.”

***

When Rory returned home, he told Peggy all about meeting his teenaged grandfather.  She laughed with him at the thrill of such a thing, and she reassured him as he ruminated over how he would come to be described.  “How did I become a soldier?” he wondered.  “I was a nurse.  A pacifist.  I…” he frowned.

“Then stay with the VA,” Peggy suggested.  “Or,” she began speaking slowly, as she did when trying to convince him of something.  “I know that you are frustrated with medicine in the 1950’s.  You could go back to school and study something else, to pass the time until medicine is more relevant to your original training.”

“Are you trying to occupy me?” he asked, pulling her into his lap in their favorite wing chair.

“Rory, I can tell you’re bored.  That’s why you accept the assignments for SHIELD.  Why not try something else?”

***

Rory was so taken with the idea that the next day he visited NYU and pored over every curriculum they offered.  Another idea took root, and he saw a path laid out that could occupy him for the next several decades, at least. 

“You want to dabble,” Peggy said, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“I want to lay a groundwork to be able study something that no one’s even heard of, right now.”

“Rory, don’t take this the wrong way, but…  Well, I remember studying something that held no interest for me at all, just because there was a cute boy I wanted to impress.”

Rory laughed.  “Oh, I don’t need to impress the Doctor,” he sighed.  He took her hand.  “I appreciate the reality check, but this isn’t about him.  It’s about her.”

“Amy?” Peggy frowned.

Rory shook his head.  “The TARDIS.  I want to understand her.  Her song.  It’s…  I wish you could hear it, Meg.  It’s the most beautiful sound I've ever heard, and I can tell, it’s…  It’s what everything is made of.”

“So you want to pursue advanced degrees.  In applied mathematics, pure mathematics, physics…” she trailed off, remembering the song of the TARDIS, though she had not felt the subtleties that Rory had clearly been able to discern.

“I…” how to explain that his relatively new brain was hungering for information, for a challenge?  How to explain that he was very close to strangling at least one of the other doctors at the VA?  How to explain…

Peggy smiled.  “Rory, this is brilliant.  I think it is a wonderful idea.  I just want to be sure it’s something that truly interests you.”

“It is.  At the very least, I’ll be better able to help with repairs.  And if I can’t cut it, or I’m bored, I can choose something else, right?”

“You can,” she smiled.  “But what about,” she hesitated, not wishing to bring up such a pedestrian concern.

“Ah.”  Rory cleared his throat.  “Well, the Doctor included a few items in the messenger bag that I hadn’t really paid much attention to, until recently.”  He looked sheepish.  “I only found it because I was looking for the photo album, and it had fallen to the bottom.”

“Found what?”

“A strongbox.”

“That contained…”

“Some first editions, some doubloons, some other items that can be sold…”

“Doubloons.”

“The one I took to an antiquarian was valued at one hundred thousand dollars.”  He laughed.  "He said it looked as though it had just been minted."

The discussion was delayed as Peggy choked on her drink.  “What?”

Rory grinned.  “The git has no concept of money.  He just wanted to be sure I’d have enough to get me by…”

“I’d say he accomplished that goal,” she laughed.

***

Rory took his time with his classes, not being in a rush and interspersing the occasional mission with the commandos in with his studies.  He found that he was applying himself to his coursework as he never had, before.  It was like a new world was blossoming in his head.  It felt like the first time he had traveled with Amy and the Doctor – all discovery and excitement.  He was fascinated, and the more he learned, the more he wanted to learn.

And the more his capacity to learn grew.  He didn’t _feel_ any smarter, and he certainly wasn’t going to be competing with any genius types.  But he seemed to innately understand the material.  And somehow it made him feel closer to those whom he missed so much.  But what surprised him most was that it also brought him closer to Peggy, as his new enthusiasm re-engaged him with every aspect of his life.

***


	6. Joy and Sorrow

In the spring of 1960, as Rory was preparing to defend his dissertation, he received word that Peggy had collapsed at work.  He arrived at the hospital and was with her when the doctor told her she was three months pregnant.

Rory was stunned.  “The Doctor must have been wrong,” he said, his voice awed.  “Meg.  Are you all right?  I know… I know this wasn’t something you…”

Peggy looked like she was in shock.  She had just turned thirty-nine.  She pulled Rory close to her and held him.  “It’s all right,” she whispered.

“A baby!” he exclaimed.  He held her at arm’s length and smiled a radiant smile.  “Don’t worry.  I’ll stay home and take care of her.  Or him.  You don’t have to give up any of the things you’ve worked so hard for.”

She pulled him close again.  “You dear man.”

***

Rory was ecstatic.  The next few months flew by in a flurry of distracted studies and shopping for baby items.  Peggy was now almost seven months along, and he had taken delight in every change in her body as their child grew.

He was surprised when he arrived home one Friday evening to see that the Dugans were there to join them for dinner.  He had been invited to defend his dissertation at a symposium at Caltech.  He was almost packed and would be flying west with Howard in the morning.  “Wow!  Did you come to see me off?  That’s so great – I know you had to get a sitter for the girls.  Good to see you both!” he gushed, feeling grateful for all of the wonderful things in his life.

As dinner progressed, Rory began to notice the tension around the table.  Dugan wouldn’t look at him, Angie kept glancing from him to Peggy and back, and Peggy hadn’t lifted her eyes from her plate.  “What’s wrong?” he finally asked.

“Rory, I…” Peggy looked frightened.

“Hey, what is it?” Rory asked gently, reaching for her hand.

“I don’t know how to tell you,” she said.

Rory frowned.  “Tell me what?”  He was focused entirely on Peggy, but he was vaguely wondering why the others were there, if she needed to discuss something private with him.

“Rory, the baby.”

“Is it alright?  Are you alright?”  He was out of his chair and kneeling next to her.  “I know I’ve been busy with school, but if I’ve neglected you in some way…”

“Rory, shut up!”

Rory shut his mouth, frowning.  That sounded more like Amy than Peggy.  His concern was growing.

“The baby…” she took a breath, steeling herself.  “It isn’t yours.”

Rory’s head twitched, slightly, and he blinked.  It was as though whatever she had just said had bounced off of him.  “What?” he asked, not understanding.

“The mission in January.  I was stranded and could not get out.  The only way to maintain my cover was to… to…”

Rory reached out and pulled her into his arms.  “Oh, God, Meg!  Why didn’t you tell me?”  He held her away from him and dried her tears.  “It’s all right.  I knew something was wrong.  I wish you’d told me, then we could have…” his voice trailed off as he realized what she had been saying.

“Did you think I would blame you?” he asked, truly hurt.  “I…  Why?”

“I didn’t want you to think less of me,” she sobbed.

“Do you really think so little of _me_?”

She stared at him, her eyes wide.

“How could I think less of you for being forced to do something that was clearly against your will?”  He ran a hand through his hair and fell backwards as another realization struck.  “The baby…”

Peggy sobbed.  She lowered herself to her knees before Rory.

Rory had gone startlingly pale.  “You let me think…”  He trailed off.  He only realized he’d stopped breathing when his respiratory bypass kicked in.  He forced himself to take a breath and stood.  He pulled her to her feet and sat her in her chair.

“You allowed me to think that I wasn’t sterile, after all.”

“Rory, I’m so sorry,” Peggy cried.

“You… you gave me hope.  How could you be so _cruel_?”

The Dugans glanced at one another.  This was not going the way they had thought it would.  The thing they had worried he would take badly, he had taken completely in stride.  But this…  This was the worse offense, for Rory.

“I came back and just wanted to forget what had happened.  And then I found out I was…  And you were _so_ happy.  How could I take that from you?”

“So why have you?  What’s forced your hand, now?” he asked, his voice hard.

“He’s making claims, now, trying to discredit Peg,” Dugan said.

“Who?” Rory’s voice was far too bland.  Even Angie sensed the danger in it.

“Uri Vostov,” Dugan said.

“So you’re only coming clean now because you need for me to publicly claim the child as my own, knowing that it’s not.  That about sum it up?”

“There’s a lot at stake here,” Dugan said, not comfortable at all with this conversation.

“And you’re here because my wife is afraid of me, I suppose,” Rory never took his eyes off of Peggy.

“No!” she protested.

“We’re here because we’re your friends, and this is an awful thing,” Angie spoke up.

Rory dropped to his knees before Peggy.  “How did this happen?  How do you not know me at all?  I knew something was wrong when you came back in January.  All you had to do was tell me what had happened.  I would have supported you.  I would have comforted you.  I would have been prepared for the possibility of a child.  And I would have raised it as my own, because it’s _yours_.  How can you not know this?”

“I was ashamed!”

“You didn’t trust me!”

“I…” she raised her eyes to him.  “Would have?”

He buried his face in his hands.  “Theta once said that to give someone hope and then take it away is a far worse thing than to allow them no hope, at all.  Do you know what it did to me, when he first told me…” he grew quiet.

Peggy reached out to touch him.  Very quickly, but very gently, he caught her hand and placed it back in her lap.  He stood with his back to them and looked out of the window of their apartment, seeing nothing.

“Rory, no one knows that you’re sterile.  No one at all.  Just the people in this room.  But Vostov has been making claims, and it would have gotten back to you.”

“Please tell me you realize that this is not the reason for you to confide in me,” he turned back to her.

“I know,” she said quietly.

He hung his head.  “No, I don’t think you do.”  He took a deep breath and sighed.  “So, Director Carter, am I going to Caltech this weekend, or staying here to defend your honor?”  He struck his right fist to his left pectoral muscle in a Roman salute.  “I await your orders.”

She looked at him, stricken.

“What?” he seethed.  “You treat me like one of your agents, only telling me things on a ‘need to know’ basis.  What do you expect?”

Dugan stepped up to him, handing him a bottle of ginger beer.  “It’s probably best if you proceed as you planned.  Any disruption to your plans means you’re taking this seriously, and it’d be better to not give that impression.”

“Fine.  They’ve invited me to take part in a research project for the next month.  I was going to put them off, but perhaps _it’s best_ if I take them up on the offer.”

Dugan glanced back at Peggy.  “Yeah.  Maybe.”  He looked uncertain.

“That would be unexpected,” Peggy said quietly.  “They would expect us to circle the wagons and play happy families.  But proceeding as we normally would will take fuel from their fire.”

“Will,” Dugan hesitated.  “Will you say the baby is yours?”

“IT ALWAYS WAS!” Rory shouted, throwing the bottle across the room and watching it shatter in the hearth.  “What the fuck is WRONG with you people?”

“Well it’s an unusual stance to take,” Dugan said, his own temper flaring.

“Why?  Because this is arse-backwards 1960?  Fucking hell, it’s not like it’s the kid’s fault, is it?  It’s Meg’s baby.”  He suddenly lost his bluster.  “And likely my only chance to raise a child, now.”

“Even if it’s another man’s?  You really believe it won’t make a difference?”

Rory faced Dugan, his eyes looking ancient and pained.  “I pray you never know what it is to lose a child, Tim.  I’ve lost all four of mine.  But to have another child placed under my protection, to have another chance to love, even if it’s just Meg’s, and not both of ours?  What do you think?”

Dugan frowned.  “Then why are you so angry?”

Rory looked at Meg, who stood and walked to him.  “Because I did not trust my extraordinary husband to do what comes as naturally to him as breathing.  I did not trust his love and loyalty.  I did not trust him to do what he always does, and put his love for his beloveds before his own best interests.” 

She reached out and touched his cheek.  He flinched as though he wanted to back away, but he forced himself to stand still.  “And I hurt him even more when I lied and gave him hope.  He doesn’t let us see it often, but he has lived thousands of years.  And God willing, he will live for thousands more.  I allowed him think that he might be a father, through those many years.  And now, I’ve snatched that hope away.” 

She nodded, tears falling.  “You’re right.  That was cruel.  And I don’t expect it to provide any comfort to know that was not my intention, but it wasn’t.  I hope that, in time, you might forgive me for not handling this better.”

Rory took her hand from his face and lowered it between them.  He stared at their joined hands for a moment.  “I understand you were ashamed and afraid and… God, this must have been a nightmare for you, and I’m running around like some idiot, not even noticing.  I’m sorry for not paying better attention.  I should have seen…” 

He gave a sniff, then wiped his eyes.  “I want you to know that you are forgiven.  But I can’t…  I can’t stay here, right now.  Please, give me some time.” 

He squeezed her hand and dropped it, then went to their room, where he packed another suitcase to get him through the additional month he would be staying in California.  When he was done packing, he left his suitcases by the door and headed for the guest room.

Dugan found him, standing by the window, staring.  “Here,” he handed Rory another ginger beer.  “Angie’s going to stay with Peggy tonight.  Do something to keep her from looking like she cried all night.”

Rory drank the bottle down and handed it back to Dugan, who handed him another.  “So what’s the appropriate response, when Vostov or one of his shills approaches me, for a reaction?”

“No one knows your affiliation with SHIELD, or the 107th.  You’re an absent-minded academic, to them.”

“Am I?” Rory was amused at the thought.

Dugan nodded.  Normally, he’d have been amused, as well, but this had been a hell of a night.  “So maybe look confused, and then laugh, like it’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard.”

Rory nodded.  After a few moments of silence, he asked, “How did she get trapped without an exit?”

Dugan sighed.  “Uri knew someone there was a spy, he just didn’t know who.  So he locked the place down.  Killed our guy who was the exit contact.  Peg would have blown her cover or been killed if she had tried to fight her way out.  So she tried to bluff.  He called it, and then turned out to be the one in a thousand immune to that lipstick of hers.  Seems he figured out who the spy was in the last week or so.”

Rory barely made it to the toilet, where he cast up his dinner.  He washed his face and looked at his reflection.  He thought he saw something move behind him, just for a second, and decided he’d had enough ginger beer. 

He rejoined Dugan.  He looked at his friend.  “You knew?”

Dugan shook his head.  “I knew she had a hard time getting out.  I didn’t know all of it, until today.”

“Who else knows?”

“Of the accusations?  Just Howard and the Colonel and the Security Council.  She came out swinging, took a hard line about how ridiculous the story is.  She’s got them convinced that Vostov is just some two-bit crook trying to spread lurid tales.  She came to Angie and me right after.  The four of us are the only ones who know the truth.”

“And Vostov,” Rory said grimly.

“He’s going to try to bait you.”

“Yeah.”

***

Rory looked neat and freshly pressed when he stepped out of Howard’s car the next morning.  He had said an awkward goodbye to Peggy before Jarvis picked him up.  As he walked towards the airfield with Jarvis, a man approached.

“Mr. Williams, right?  You’re married to Peggy Carter?”

Rory gave his bland, pleasant expression.  He tried to add in a bit of distraction, to aid the absent-minded impression.  “Yes?”

“So are you leaving because of the rumor?”

Rory gave a mildly confused look.  “I’ve been slated to defend my dissertation at the symposium for months, now.  Look,” he rifled through a stack of papers, dropping several before handing over the agenda for the symposium. 

Jarvis gave him a sidelong look and helped him pick up the papers he’d dropped as the prat stared at the agenda, confused.

“Perhaps you’re looking for someone else,” Rory said good-naturedly.  “I’m sure I can’t help you.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a plane to catch.”

He turned to go, but the man grabbed his arm.  “I wonder what you think of your wife having another man’s bastard in her belly.”

“Now see here!” Jarvis protested, looking outraged.

Rory looked confused, then he gave a chuckle.  “Is this one of those practical jokes?  It must be.  My lovely wife and I are very much looking forward to welcoming our child, soon.  You shouldn’t say such things about respectable people.”

“Uri Vostov knocked up your 'lovely wife', pal.”

“Oh.  Do you work for Mr. Vostov?” Rory gave a slight frown.  “I see how you’d want to make trouble.  I’ve often heard that tiny men will attempt to discredit powerful women.  Shame on him, for that.”

Rory turned to leave.  The man stared stupidly and seemed to think about following, but Jarvis gave him a stern look and pointed for the man to leave.

Once on the plane, Jarvis said, “I’m surprised you did not do that man some harm.”

“We all have our parts to play, Jarvis,” Rory muttered.

***

Rory was granted his PhD and worked on the project at Caltech for five weeks.  When his plane landed back in New York, Dugan met him at the airfield.  “There’s been trouble.  Come with me,” he said, looking as though he’d been in a hell of a fight.

“What’s wrong?”

“Vostov attacked us at a meeting.  Out in the open, in a restaurant,” Dugan explained as they got into the back of a car being driven by Morita.  The Colonel was in the front seat, holding a handkerchief to a cut above his eyebrow.

“Where’s Meg?” Rory asked, instantly concerned.

“At the hospital.  Look.  Gramps.  There were too many of them.  He…  He threw her down and kicked her.  Several times, before we could get to her.”

Rory felt the world tilt sideways.  “He… kicked her?”

“Her water broke, and she was bleeding pretty badly.  But she’s at the hospital, now.  They’re going to take good care of her.”

They arrived at the hospital very quickly, after that.  Rory went to Peggy, who was having an emergency c-section.  After what seemed an interminable amount of time standing by the door to the surgical suite, he was taken to a small room with a rocking chair.  The nurse handed him the child, wrapped in a blanket.

It was a boy.  And he was in pain, his tiny body broken by the boot of a monster.  Rory held the baby and pressed his forehead to its tiny head, somehow intuitively knowing what to do.  He gave a nudge, and was easily in, staggered by the pain and fear he encountered. 

“Shhh,” he soothed.  “You’re safe, now.  Let me help.”  He wrapped all of the pain and fear up in a bubble and took it into his own mind before encouraging the release endorphins and oxytocin, which soothed the babe.  He asked the nurse to find someone with a camera.  Surprisingly, she was able to quickly locate someone, who came in and took a picture of the cooing infant and then quietly left again.

Rory continued to speak to the child in low tones, holding him and singing to him and staring at the beautiful little face.  He sang him Roman lullabies and whispered the secrets of the universe to him. 

He was speaking in Latin.

Unnoticed by him, the Dugans and the Colonel and Morita were there with him, watching as he doted on the child for hours.  Unable to bear it, Morita left the room.  Angie went to see if Peggy had awakened, yet.  The colonel sent the nurse away, several times.

After four hours, the nurse returned, and Dugan couldn’t take it, anymore.  “Rory, you have to let him go,” he whispered.  He no longer doubted his friend’s ability to love another man’s child.  He was now just worried that his friend’s sanity was in peril.

Rory switched back to English.  “Demons run when a good man goes to war.” 

Dugan startled at the reference.

“Mr. Carter,” the nurse said.

“Night will fall and drown the sun, when a good man goes to war.” 

“It’s Williams,” Dugan said gruffly.

“Friendship dies and true love lies, night will fall and the dark will rise, when a good man goes to war.” 

“Of course.  My apologies,” she said gently.

“Demons run but count the cost; the battle’s won but the child is lost…”  Rory’s voice trailed off.  He looked at the beautiful child that had grown cold in his arms. 

“Again…” his voice broke.

“We will take Baby Williams,” she began.

“His name is Brian Carter Williams,” Rory said softly, not taking his eyes off the child.  “Make sure that’s on the certificate.”  He stilled.  “Certificates,” he corrected.  “Birth and death,” he muttered.

The nurse looked at Dugan.  He reached down and placed his hands under Rory’s elbows.  “Rory?” he asked.

Rory blinked.  Nodded.  “Vale, Brian,” he whispered, kissing the baby’s head.[1]  He allowed Dugan to take the baby and hand him to the nurse.

He found a paper and pen in his pocket and wrote down the address of a graveyard.  He handed the paper to the Colonel.  “Could you…” he cleared his throat.  “Could you see if you can get a plot, here?  And a stone.  I…  I’ll pay you back,” he trailed off and wandered out of the room.

He found Peggy sleeping in a private room wrangled by Howard.  Howard, the Jarvises and Morita were in the private waiting room, next door.  Angie was in a chair beside Peggy’s bed, weeping.  She hugged Rory and ran from the room.

Gently, Rory lay down beside Peggy and drew her into his arms.  She awakened and they talked and cried together.  He knew that she was sad, but relieved.  She knew that he was devastated.  “I should have been here,” he choked.

“Be sensible, Love.  Even if you had been in town, you would not have been at a work lunch with me.  You know Dugan and Morita and even the Colonel would have stopped it, had it been possible to stop,” she whispered through her tears.  “Please do not do this to yourself.”

“I hope you don’t mind, but I named him,” he said.

So it had been a boy.  She frowned when she realized she had not asked.  And it was rare that newborns who died so soon after birth were named.  “I don’t mind,” she said.  “What did you name him?”

He told her.  She felt her heart break, more for Rory than herself.  “Oh, my Love.”

“I’m going with them,” he said.

She nodded.  “And when you’re done, will you come back to me?”

“Always,” he said, and she snuggled more closely into his arms.

***

 

[1] Goodbye


	7. Justice

In the early hours of the morning, he kissed Peggy and left the hospital room.  Angie was in the waiting room, and he asked her to look after Peggy until he could return.  Then he left with Dugan.  On the way to the airfield, Dugan looked at Rory.

“I’m sorry about your boy.”

Rory nodded.

“You all right?”

“No.”

Dugan nodded.  “Maybe this isn’t the right time, but…  Amy will still be young, when you get back to her, right?  What about… with that family?”

Rory hung his head.  “They did something to her, at Demon’s Run.  She’s sterile, too.  Even the most advanced medicine can do nothing for either of us.”

He had spoken of the battle at Demon’s Run, where he and Amy had lost their child.  But he hadn’t even told Peggy this.  Dugan ran a hand over his face.  “Jesus.  I’m sorry, Gramps,” he said quietly. 

“What’s the play?”

“Capture, if possible.”

Rory nodded.

“I doubt it’ll be possible,” Dugan said, his voice hard.

Rory shrugged.

“You sure you’re up to this?”

“You know you won’t talk me out of going.”

“Yeah.”

They found Vostov in a coffee house in Morocco.  He was surrounded by goons.  Rory handed his rifle to Dugan and, before anyone could stop him, he walked in and sat across the table from Vostov.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Vostov demanded.

“No one of consequence,” Rory answered, though his black fatigues had caught the attention of some.  No names, no flags, just the fatigues, with a black vest that was the precursor to Kevlar, still a decade away from being invented.  Still, his clothing spoke of a military presence that would be inconvenient.

“It’s the maths professor!” exclaimed the man who had accosted Rory at the airfield.  He looked Rory up and down, laughing.  “Bumbling idiot!”  Rory returned his gaze and the man sobered, realizing that this could not be the same man, after all. 

“He had you fooled, I think,” Vostov said shrewdly.  He sat back, smiling.  “So how is the wife?  I hear she survived our little surprise party.  But my little bastard did not, eh?”

Rory sat back as well, and smiled a predatory smile.  “Demons run when a good man goes to war.”

Rory realized that the real question was whether he was a good man.  He wasn’t certain, any more.  But this demon would run, if it was the last thing Rory would ever do.

“What?”  Vostov laughed.

“All of time and space,” Rory said conversationally. 

Vostov felt a prickle at the back of his neck.  This man was dancing along the edge of sanity.  And lunatics were unpredictable.  Dangerous.

“You can run anywhere,” Rory continued to smile.  “Throughout all of time and space.  And I will find you.”  He leaned forward.  “You remember that, mate.”

Vostov forced a smile to his lips.  “I will remember what your wife’s cunt felt like, for all my days.”

Rory scoffed.  “Give it up, mate.  No one believed you then, they certainly won’t now, after you’ve attacked a pregnant woman.  Clearly, you’re simply some pathetic sap, obsessed with a woman so far out of your league, it sent you round the twist.”

“Obsessed?” Vostov bridled.  “She is not worth my notice.”

“So which is it?” Rory asked mildly.

Vostov was sweating, now.  He was being toyed with.  He did not feel safe here with this madman, despite being surrounded by ten of his own best men.

Sensing Vostov’s discomfiture, Rory winked at him.  The man flinched.  “So here’s how it’s going to go,” Rory said in the same easy, conversational tone.  “Best case, you’re going to send your men away and come with me.  Everyone lives.  Second option is that your men get shot and you still come with me.  Third option,” Rory’s face suddenly blazed with a feral light that chilled Vostov, “you all die.”

Just then, a child ran through, wearing a red fez.  Rory blinked.  Sobered. 

 _Damn_. 

The Doctor had once called Rory the gentlest man he had ever known.  Was that still true?  After almost twenty-five years, another war (or two), and this work he found himself doing…  Was he still the man the Doctor had loved?

Would the Doctor still love him?  Rory frowned, wondering.  Did he really want to kill Vostov?  He looked at the man sitting uneasily across the table from him.  He remembered the infant that had died in his arms.  The child’s pain…  Meg’s pain…

In one smooth movement, Rory was on his feet with his gun in his hand.  Vostov’s men started firing as he swept the table aside and manhandled Vostov out of his chair and into a chokehold, holding him in front of him as a human shield. 

He allowed muscle memory to take over.  The memory of a gun that was built into his hand.  But this time it was the Browning M1911A1 pistol that had been issued when he had joined up.  He had eight rounds, and with terrifying efficiency he took down eight men with uncanny speed.  He left the two furthest from him, knowing Dugan and the rest would take care of them as they entered. 

As if on cue, the commandos entered the building.  The two men still standing dropped their weapons.  Rory holstered his weapon.

“Cowards!” Vostov screamed.  He was terrified.  The madman had him, and he was dragging him from the room.  “Wait!  Wait!  I have information!  I surrender!”

Rory hauled Vostov into a supply room and kicked the door shut behind them.  He hurled Vostov against the wall.  Vostov drew his gun and fired.  Rory looked down and saw that the front of his uniform appeared to be wet. 

Odd, that. 

He looked at Vostov, who was staring at him, wide-eyed.  “What the fuck!”

Rory smiled.  He reached out and took Vostov’s gun.  “You know, there are varying opinions on the worst pain a human can experience,” he said mildly.”  He checked the gun to be sure a round was in the chamber.  “Some say an injury to a ball joint, because of the low probability of proper healing.  I could shoot you in the hip, or the shoulder…

“Or possibly the knee.  Both knees, even.  But guns are so…” he made a face and pressed the button that released the magazine.  He thumbed the remaining bullets out of the clip before throwing it at Vostov.  Then he racked the slide to eject the round in the chamber before tossing the gun away. 

Reaching over his shoulder, he took hold of his sword.  The scabbard was strapped to his back with a special harness Howard had engineered for him.  It fit close to his body and was all but hidden under the black flack vest.  He pulled it from its scabbard now, watching Vostov’s face go pale.

“There’s always _lingchi_ ,” Rory continued, his tone still bland and conversational.  “Imperial China used it for over a thousand years.”  He leaned in close to Vostov, who whimpered as Rory held the point under his chin.  “Death by a thousand cuts, they call it.”

He stepped away from Vostov.  “They also say the worst pain a man can endure, aside from kidney stones or shingles, is a penile fracture.”  Vostov whimpered again and Rory rolled his eyes.  “Don’t worry, mate.  That can only happen to an erect penis, so unless you get nervous boners, that’s off the table.”

“Did someone call for a nervous boner?” Dugan strolled in.

Rory crossed his arms and leaned up against the wall opposite Vostov.  “Careful, that may be my new nickname for you.”  He nodded towards Vostov.  “We were just discussing why penile fracture is off the table.”

“Pity,” Dugan said.  “Gotta say, Lieutenant.  Not sure what you’re playing at, but that mess out front…”

“You’re going to wait a very long time for an apology.”

Dugan nodded.  “So how long you going to play with your food, here?”

Rory shrugged a shoulder.  “Can’t quite decide which way to go, to be honest.”

Dugan drew his sidearm.  “Just say the word.”

“No, no,” Rory reached out and pressed Dugan’s gun down and away from the prisoner.  “We’re not going to kill him.”

Dugan looked sharply at Rory.  “We’re not?”  He looked confused.

“That would be too easy,” Rory explained.  “We’re not going to be kind to him, in that way.”  He crossed the room and wrapped his left arm around Vostov’s shoulder.  “Besides, Uri here has information.  Right Uri?  I can call you Uri, right?”

Rory raised his sword and lay the flat of the blade against Vostov’s cheek.  “I forget the etiquette of these situations, Sergeant.  What _does_ one call the man who has killed one’s son, do you think?”

“Enemy,” Dugan answered.  He was watching Rory closely.  It had not escaped his notice that the front of Rory’s fatigues were sodden.  He turned cold eyes on Vostov.  “You know, Uri, this guy is deceptively strong.  He used to be Captain America’s sparring partner.  I saw him knock Cap down, even.  Have you ever hit a man as hard as you could, Lieutenant?”

Rory reached back and put his sword in his scabbard.  “Just Cap, that day, with the potato guy.”

Dugan grunted.  “So.  Want to hit him?”

“No.  I want him to feel…” Rory trailed off, his eyes going out of focus.  He reached out and placed his hands on either side of Uri’s face.  He leaned in, close.  “You know, I learned a new skill yesterday.”  Uri was shaking.  “They brought my son out to me, and he was still alive.  But his little body was broken, and he was in _so much_ pain.  And he had _so much_ fear.” 

Rory reached up and brushed the hair off of Vostov’s forehead.  “One of the gifts of touch telepathy is that you can sometimes feel what others are feeling.  Somehow, I was able to take his pain and his fear away.  But I still have it.  And now, Uri,” he lowered his voice, whispering.  He kissed Vostov on the forehead.  “Now, I am going to give it to you.  It’s only fitting, don’t you think?  Since you caused it?”

Rory pressed his forehead against Vostov’s.  He gave a nudge and as soon as he felt an opening, he placed the bubble of pain and fear into Vostov’s mind.  He moved it to just the right place and leaned away from Vostov.  “It’s like a little soap bubble.  And whenever you hear a particular word, the bubble will pop, and you will feel that baby’s pain and fear.  Six minutes and forty-two seconds of agony and terror.  That’s how long he suffered, from the time he was born until I took his pain away.  And that’s what you’ll get.  And then the bubble will re-form.”  He smacked Vostov’s face.  “Want to know what that word is?”

Vostov shook his head, looking terrified.

“See, I couldn’t use an everyday word, because it would be harder to control.  And we don’t want to accidentally set it off.  My first choice would have been Carter.  Or maybe Brian.”  Vostov flinched at each word, but nothing happened.  “Then I thought maybe something alien, like Gallifrey or Tesselecta or Sontaran.  But I wouldn’t disrespect any of those, for the likes of you.”

He leaned close and whispered, “So do you know the story of Pandora’s Box?” 

Vostov flinched.

“Ooh, you felt it, didn’t you?  It’s close enough to make you twitch.  I figure there’s a certain irony, because you have no idea what you’ve unleashed, have you?”  Rory leaned in again and whispered in his ear, “Pandorica.”

Vostov fell to the floor, screaming.

Rory forced himself to watch, appalled to see what he had wrought.  True, he had not killed Vostov.  Or any of his men, for that matter.  But was this better?  What would the Doctor say?

At six minutes and forty-three seconds, Vostov stopped screaming and lay still, whimpering.  Dugan opened the door and waved in two men to take the prisoner away.  “Put him on suicide watch,” he called after them.  Turning to Rory, he said, “That, my friend, was downright _biblical_.”

“I saw a red fez, and I remembered,” Rory muttered.  “The man I used to be.  Rory.  He was a nurse.  He healed people.  But I let the wolf take over.  I…  I remember the Doctor talking about his daughter, who was shot.  And he had a gun to the man’s head, and he didn’t kill him.  He never would have.  It’s one thing to protect people.  But to kill in anger and hatred…  I _almost_ did it.  I _wanted_ to do it.”

“But you didn’t.  I’d wager that’s why he loves you, Gramps.  He’d be proud of you.”

“Would he?  What I did was far more cruel than a bullet or a blade.”

“Was it?  You allowed him to see what he had really done.  That is justice.  And whatever that word was, you need never utter it in his presence, again.”  Dugan reached out and put a hand on Rory’s shoulder.  “You did good today.  And no matter what your Doctor may think, _I’m_ proud of you.”

Rory nodded his thanks.  He felt strange, all of a sudden.

Dugan put a hand on Rory’s arm to steady him.  “You all right?”

Rory leaned towards Dugan, barely keeping himself upright.  “I think I may need Howard,” he said quietly.

“Yeah.”

***

They were in a large cargo plane of Howard’s design.  Vostov was chained in a small compartment converted to a makeshift brig, almost catatonic.  Rory was taken to a room that Howard had intended as a lab, where he could do work as he traveled. 

“I might have known he’d get himself injured on this one,” Howard muttered as Dugan and Morita helped Rory onto one of the work surfaces.  “Are you in pain?”

“Shock and insanity,” Rory mumbled.

As they cut his fatigues off of him, they were alarmed to see he had been shot six times.  “I’ve lost too much blood,” he said groggily.  “Need to… coma.”

“Wait!” Howard exclaimed.  “Most of these don’t look too bad, but tell me about this one,” his hand hovered over the wound just below Rory’s ribcage.

“Same as you,” Rory wheezed.  “Liver-ish.”  His eyes rolled back as he struggled to stay conscious.  “Can’t…  Can’t hold on…”

Dugan placed a hand at the top of Rory’s head.  “Go to sleep, Gramps.  We’ll take good care of you.”

Rory closed his eyes and surrendered to the darkness that was enveloping him like the embrace of a beloved.  He welcomed the reprieve from the grief and pain.

***


End file.
